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obxsummer · 16 days ago

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chaotic // ghost of you

pairing: jj maybank x routledge!reader

summary: a quick glimpse down memory lane before the group heads to charleston where you and john b are placed on cemetery duty. good thing a sibling intervention was needed and john b's hit with the heavy realization that you'd been left with more than superficial scars from the camerons.

warnings: ptsd, non-consensual drug use, angst, rafe cameron, typical obx violence, ward cameron being a dickhead, almost kidnapping?

a/n: good luck, godspeed, & listen to chaotic by tate mcrae

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ask me anything

“Would you do this to your sister?”

Rafe stared at you, horrified, as you hummed on the bed from the effects of the heavy indica based oil he’d put in your drink. You were practically on a cloud, and he was surprised you even had the energy to speak. You’d never asked him anything, just begged him to stop and let go, but never this.

“What?”

You forced yourself up to a sitting position, practically fluttering at the pain relief he’d given you. Rafe spent more time in this room with you, just talking and yelling and taking his anger out on you because you were there. You usually didn’t bother to comment back, just taking whatever he’d give because you’d given up on the idea of life getting any better.

“Would you put Sarah through this?” You repeated, eyes blinking quickly at him.

Rafe bent down to snort the line of white powder he’d organized on your calf; any other surface in the room and his dad would notice (or that’s what he told himself). “The fuck are you talking about?”

“I mean, John B would never do this to your sister, so why the hell are you doing it to his?”

The question caught Rafe off guard more than he expected. His dad had practically ruined his relationships with everyone he’d come to know. Except you, Ward had broken you into the perfect little companion for Rafe. There was no running away, nobody to come save you. So, in his own little twisted way, he really liked having you around. You were his.

“I don’t have to answer you,” Rafe replied weakly, knowing damn well he would’ve never allowed anything like that to happen to Sarah. Not…no? Maybe. He didn’t know anymore and his brain wasn’t working correctly now with the drugs in his system.

You sighed, “Okay.” Flopping back on the bedding, you stared at the ceiling. Your heartbeat was in your ears and it felt like time was passing so slowly.

“Would you ever forgive John B if he did that?”

You shook your head and gave him a thumbs down. “John B would never do that. And if he did, I’d never speak to him again.”

The statement hurt. As much as Rafe tried to convince himself that you were wrong, it hurt. He wanted to be good, to be worthy of someone’s love and attention. He’d tried his whole life to but he kept fucking up. That’s why he was leaning on you. You were fixing that hole in his chest whether you knew it or not.

“Would you ever talk to me again?” Rafe stared at the bland walls as he spoke.

A moment of silence filled the room before he turned to see if you were still awake. Your eyes remained unblinking, the rise and fall of your chest in a steady motion the only sign that you were still alive.

“You’re really scaring me,” You answered honestly. Your mind was silent, the only thing running through it was Rafe’s question, so you had no reason to lie to him. “You’re hurting me. You’re really hurting me and I don’t understand why.”

Rafe turned away when you started crying, your form shivering in an adrenaline drop as you rolled onto your side away from him. He sat silently until your breathing evened out, eyes closing as you fell into an induced slumber before he turned the lights off and left the room, locking the door as he did.

John B was worried.

Let’s be clear, as the eldest of the group, John B worried often, but when it came to you, he always was.

Everything was off since you and Kie had returned from the shop and it was practically a red flag waving in front of his face. Neither of you said anything but it was obvious from the timing of everything paired with tear tracks on your faces that something happened. He just had to wait it out for more details.

Revealing everything to Kie had brought up a lot of buried feelings and although you wanted nothing more than to hide away, you didn’t want to risk staying home by yourself. You were quiet the entire ferry ride, claiming you were tired and needed a nap so nobody would question your lack of energy. That didn’t mean you missed out on the conversations around you, eavesdropping your way into John B’s awkward insinuation of moving into the next step with Sarah.

The topic pulled tears to your eyes as you thought about the idea with JJ. Would you guys stay in Kildare? Would you move somewhere, or stay here and carry out a different kind of life that neither of you had experienced?

“So based on the captain’s log, Blackbeard’s in his ship, the Adventure, somewhere out there, and they’re being pursued by the British Royal Navy, right? So, he comes to shore, takes a bunch of hostages. They called it the, um, the-“

“Oh, the uh, the Blockade of Charleston. That was eighth-grade history.” John B interrupted Pope’s story with such confidence it almost brought you out of your shitty mood.

You walked slowly behind them, head covered by one of John B’s old Kildare High hoodies, the sweater paws keeping you warm. Kie was a few steps ahead of you, walking next to Sarah. Every now and then she would spare a glance back to make sure you were still there. Cleo walked ahead of everyone else, knife twirling between her fingers with murder on her mind. She would get her revenge on Terrance’s behalf.

Your attention drifted from John B and Pope’s conversation to your phone where your messages to JJ had gone unanswered. You knew he could hold his own, but you hated the thought of leaving him in search of his dad, not that he would’ve let you go anyway.

“Come on, Birdie.” John B had slowed his pace to walk along your side, his hand grabbing yours so you’d drop your head on his shoulder. “Wanna talk?”

You shook your head slightly but squeezed his hand in appreciation that he was here. Pope was busy solving the riddle left by the amulet that had brought you here.

“Wait, I have a question. So, if we’re talking about caskets, that doesn’t mean we’re going to another cemetery, right?”

You laughed softly at John B’s question, leaning further into his side as the six of you continued walking down the cobblestone street. The walk continued much longer than you would’ve liked, your mind and body ready to lay down for a little and reset.

“You know what’s been bothering me?” Pope asked after the sun had set and you’d walked a good 5 miles. “Blackbeard has a treasure he desperately wants to keep. He’s being pursued by the British Royal Navy. They’re blockading the entire city. Yet he finds time to make coffins to bury his cook and navigator?”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, time out. Time out, time out. Dude, he definitely put something in those coffins.”

“Are you dumb.” You let go of John B’s hand to stop in front of him, giving him a blank look. He looked offended as you walked away from him, shaking your head as you did. It was quite obvious that you were looking for treasure hidden in the coffins.

“Half Moon, Half Moon Battery, where the living and the dead collide, which I figure is a cemetery, which means all we have to do is figure out where-“

“The North Star is?” Sarah finished Pope’s thought as she raised her hand to point to a stained-glass window of the church on the corner. You shrugged at her find, figuring it made sense to at least give it a shot.

John B wrapped an arm around his girlfriend. “Sarah Cameron, have I told you I love you lately?”

Pope stared at the colored object for a few more seconds before turning to address all of you. “Here’s the plan, alright? I’m gonna need you and you for diversions. You’re coming with me, I need to check something in the church. And you two are on cemetery duty.”

That put Sarah and Cleo on distractions, Kiara going with Pope, and you were left with John B for cemetery duty.

“Wait, what?” You asked as you looked around the darkness surrounding you and your brother seemed to be on the same page. “Don’t leave us out here!”

“Look for the gatekeeper in the cemetery,” Pope explained as the remainder of the group started walking toward the entrance. “Be so safe!”

You rolled your eyes at the ongoing joke, turning to face John B. “We just got benched.”

“Yep, where the living and dead collide, the Routledges will provide. Awesome,” He grumbled and walked around the gate to enter the graveyard area. “It’s not real, they’re dead. It’s gonna be fine, we’ll be fine.”

You sighed and let him rant away to himself as you found a spot on the stairs to claim for the upcoming time. Pulling John B’s hoodie sleeves further over your hands, you shivered with the cool night breeze.

“So, are you gonna tell me what the hell is going on or am I going to have to drag it out of someone else?” John B took a seat next to you and cracked his knuckles like it would make him any tougher.

As much as you loved Kie, you knew she wasn’t good at keeping secrets, and you wanted to talk to John B before she went running. Your teeth pulled at the chapped skin of your lips before you answered, “I heard you on the ferry, talking to Sarah about starting a family.”

He seemed confused for a moment before his cheeks burned red. “Oh, that’s awkward. Um, that… that should’ve been a more private conversation and-”

“Would you hate Sarah if she didn’t have kids?”

The question wasn’t one John B anticipated. Out of all the things you guys had talked about before, raising a family wasn’t one discussed. With your own family relationship being rocky, John B never knew where you stood on the idea and if you’d ever want that for yourself (and JJ, but he tried not to think about that).

“No, n-no. I would be sad, of course, but I wouldn’t hate her. She totally dodged the idea, though so you don’t have to worry about-”

“Would you leave her?”

John B frowned and blinked at you, but you still weren’t looking at him. He wasn’t used to you asking about his relationship in this kind of way. “Why are you asking this?”

You pushed a shaky breath from your lips and let your head drop to your knees. God, you wished JJ was here. He deserved to hear this from you first, but he wasn’t, and you didn’t know when he would be.

“John B, I can’t have kids.” You turned to watch his expression as he processed your words. Your eyes were warm with tears while a million emotions crossed his face.

“What?” John B didn’t know what else to say. You guys were barely adults, and this topic shouldn’t even be a thought in your mind with the current living conditions and lack of funding you all had. But you were his little sister, and his heart was breaking as you spoke. “Can’t or won’t?”

Tugging on the sleeves of the hoodie again, you looked down. “Can’t. Physically unable. Never going to happen.”

John B paused at the coldness in your voice. You were obviously upset but he still wasn’t sure where all of this was coming from. Plus, let’s be real. John B was a teenage boy at the end of the day; female anatomy was not his strong suit in any way. “Oh, okay. Um, is there like a problem or-”

“Rafe caused it.”

The Cameron house was cold. Sunlight filled the room, casting some warmth across the hardwood floor but you made no effort to enjoy it. Rose had just dropped a salad off at the door and told you that DCS would be visiting today, to get your shit together and not to mess anything up or Ward would go after your friends. You didn’t know whether to believe him or not, but you had nothing left to go off of. You hadn’t seen your friends in weeks, and you didn’t know if they even bothered to look for you.

DCS had yet to make any checkups on you and your brother since your dad disappeared, minus the one that John B narrowly avoided by jumping from the car when you thankfully weren’t home. You figured Ward had paid them off for so long, but now that John B was lost to sea, they were likely to get suspicious.

Which meant they were coming to talk to you. Alone.

Perfect.

Forcing your tired and bruised body to your feet, you made your way into the attached bathroom to soak under the hot water and formulate a plan. If DCS did opt to talk to you, there had to be a way to get a silent SOS across. You didn’t know how, but you would come up with something, even if Rafe and Ward followed your every move.

After soaking up most of the hot water, you finished getting ready for the day, pulling on a pair of shorts and one of John B’s t-shirts that had gotten mixed in your laundry. It would only be a matter of time before they’d come knocking at the door to collect you for show and tell.

Your eyes moved over everything in the room with hope something would pop up with an answer for all of your problems. And then you remembered the remaining food tray in the room. Ward or whoever dropped food to you typically left plastic wear to prevent you from using the typicaly cutlery as a resource, but that wasn’t the case today. Your eyes caught the metal knife that was intended to cut the meal, but you hadn’t touched it.

You grabbed the piece in your hand and moved slowly to to the door, running over JJ’s instructions in your head on how to possibly pop the lock using the tool. Pushing it between the door and the wall, you felt around for the horizontal lock, struggling to move it over. And then there was a pop, and your heart started racing.

Pressing your ear against the door, you listened for footsteps and voices, anything that would give you a warning of someone being nearby. When you didn’t hear anything, your fingers gently twisted the doorknob as far as it would go. A soft click told you it was yours to open as you pleased, so you did so, slowly.

The hallway was dim minus the sunlight leaking in from other rooms and your eyes caught sight of the large grandfather clock to your side. The ticking of the hands echoed down the silent hallway and you stood frozen for a moment before taking your first steps out.

And nothing.

No yelling, no alarms, no impromptu body tackles to the floor. You could make this. You could make a run for it and they would be none the wiser until DCS was here.

Walking slowly down the hallway, you came to the foyer area where you could hear whispers from the kitchen filtering through. Moving into Sarah’s room, you glanced around for something, anything, that would help you get out of here without any suspicion.

“Go get her. They’ll be here soon and I need to make sure she’s not going to run her mouth.”

“Dad, she’s going to-”

“Now, Rafe.”

You held your breath as Rafe mumbled an agreement and the sound of his footsteps echoed through the open room as he ascended the stairs. You needed to move, and move fast. Rafe cursed down the hall, likely figuring out that the door was unlocked and you clutched the butter knife tighter in your hand like it would offer any protection.

Ducking into Sarah’s walk-in closet, you scrambled to find an old phone or even her laptop if she’d left it behind but came up empty. “Shit,” You whispered to yourself and bent down to pull on a pair of her gym shoes since yours had been destroyed from years of wear. If nothing else, you needed to prepare to run.

Grabbing a black hoodie from her shelves, you slipped it on over your t-shirt and pulled the hood up to keep your face hidden as much as possible. You would only have one shot at this, and you needed to make it count.

Moving slowly toward Sarah’s bedroom door, you waited to see if you could hear Rafe’s presence down the hall but silence followed. The doorbell rang, Ward yelling out for his son in hopes that he would bring you down but Rafe didn’t answer.

“Hi, I’m Rebecca Sinclair with DCS. I’m presuming you’re Mr. Cameron.”

Risking the step into the open, you walked out of Sarah’s room and kept your body pressed against the wall so you would be out of view for Ward and the DCS rep but could see their conversation.

“That would be me. Come in, can I get you something to drink?”

Rebecca shook her head. “This should be fairly quick. Where is Miss Routledge? I have to do an individual check in with her and then one with you as the legal guardian.”

“Let me go see where she’s at. She’s been having a really hard time with the loss of her brother and my daughter. They were such good friends, and-”

“Miss Routledge, please, Mr. Cameron.”

The DCS rep clearly wasn’t putting up with Ward. You took the chance to step forward into view, your mouth opening to yell out before someone’s hand clamped over your face and an arm yanked you back from view. You screamed against the action, the sound echoing throughout the hall.

“Apologies, she’s been crying all day. I’ll go grab her.”

Body thrashing, you attempted to pull out of Rafe’s grasp but he doubled down on his grip, even when you attempted to bite his hand.

“Shut the fuck up or I’ll kill you!” He hissed in your ear as he dragged you down the hallway back into the room you’d seen for days upon days. Rafe tried to close the door as quietly as possible while still corralling you in his arms.

He slammed you against the bed covers, knee driving into your stomach as he kept his hand over your mouth. You cried out at the force, tears springing to your eyes at the pain that followed. You tried to push against his chest so he would get off, his other hand tightening around your throat causing the air to stop its way into your lungs.

You choked, eyes going wide as you stared back at him in hopes that he would find some sort of empathy and forgiveness, but cold eyes met yours.

“I told you to shut the fuck up, you useless Pogue. I should kill you for-”

“Rafe.” Ward’s voice was demanding enough that his son stopped speaking but continued to glare at you. “Move your hand.”

Rafe complied, taking his hand from your throat but keeping the one on your mouth. You continued to push at him until he dropped more of his weight into the knee on your stomach and you cried again.

Ward’s face came into view, his sickly fake smile on his face as he held a small syringe into your view. “You could’ve just listened, you know? And we wouldn’t have to go to these lengths.”

He wasn’t gentle as he pushed the needle into your skin, subjecting you to whatever sedative he’d claimed good enough to handle your outburst.

Your body went quiet within seconds, muscles relaxing and a numbness spreading from limb to limb. Your imaginary fight with Rafe ended and tears fell from your eyes at the helpless feeling. After a moment, Rafe moved his hand and shifted off of you as Ward tossed a spare blanket over your form.

“Go to your room, I’ll handle this.”

You could tell Rafe wanted to disagree with Ward’s directions, but with a final glare your way, he removed himself from the room. Ward watched as your expression drooped, eyes blinking slower as the medicine kicked in.

“I told you, you’ll never see them again.”

Heavy tears blinked from your eyes as you tried to fight through, tried to stay awake to warn the woman downstairs of your horrendous conditions, of how damaged they’d left you. But you couldn’t, despite all your efforts, you couldn’t.

And as your vision faded to black, all you could think of was your brother and how you wanted to be with him again, more than anything in the world.

And now, John B was going to be sick to his stomach so he stood up to pace while fighting the bile in his throat. Rafe Cameron. Rafe Cameron took away something you’d never even had a chance to consider.

“Did he…” The open ended question made John B dizzy at the thought of everything that you’d gone through, and when you shook your head no, he choked out a cough instead of the lunch he was threatening to leave in the bush.

You watched him from your spot on the stairs, heart racing as you recounted everything you’d told Kie earlier that day. “There was so much, um, scar tissue from the kicking…and the drugs. A-and they said it caused permanent damage that even if I wanted to get pregnant, I wouldn’t make it long.”

“When did you find out? The hospital? Or-or-” John B stopped pacing, his hand tugging at his hair to keep him from absolutely raging in the cemetery.

“It was when you got arrested,” You continued to explain around your tears before he lost his chill. “There was so much bleeding and… I didn’t know what to do…so I told Pope, and his dad took me to the hospital and-”

“Pope knows?” John B had never sounded so upset at the idea of one of his best friends finding out this information before he did. You were his sister, his other half no matter what happened. He wanted you to trust him, to lean on him for everything and anything you wanted. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

You shrugged lightly, your voice cracking as you spoke, “Because I’m embarrassed? And ashamed and JJ’s going to leave when he finds out and-”

John B picked you up from the stairs and held you so tightly, he could’ve sworn you disappeared. His chest shook with your sobs as you sunk into the embrace. You weren’t even 19 yet and the possibility of growing a family with your boyfriend, John B’s best friend, was practically non-existent.

Adoption was always an option, but John B knew what you were grieving, because he had almost grieved it when he lost Sarah on that table in Nassau. Plus, let’s not lie, the chances of you all getting your shit together and getting approved for that kind of thing were slipping away by the day. There was still so much time in your lives (you hoped), that you shouldn’t be hearing this news at such a young age, but like you said, life had been so cruel.

John B stood there, with you in his arms, for as long as you’d let him. You cried for most of it, but a part of you was relieved he knew. You had tried to keep the conversation away as long as possible, like if you didn’t speak of it, you’d never have to accept that it was real. But it was, and you had to come to the realization that John B wouldn’t be an uncle to kids that you’d created on your own, that JJ wouldn’t ever get to redeem himself as a Dad to kids of his own, that you’d never get that experience.

“I’m so sorry, I… I should’ve been there, I should’ve never left without you,” John B apologized and placed his hand on the back of your head to hold you closer. “God, I shouldn’t have-I didn’t mean for this to happen. I never meant for any of this to happen.”

“‘S not your fault,” You mumbled, every word being so honest. It had taken a lot of thought, but you couldn’t and you wouldn’t blame John B for what he’d done. He was a terrified kid, and you were too in your own ways. He was running for his life and you were watching from the sidelines. Older and younger. Brother and sister. Trapped in this horrible spiral life had given you.

“What are we looking for?”

An unsuspecting voice had you and John B diving for a hiding spot, your brother tugging you behind a gravestone that would keep both of you from prying eyes. John B held a finger to his lips, teary eyes making contact with yours as you were wrenched out of your heartbreaking conversation and back into reality.

Keeping his hand on your shoulder to hold you out of view, John B peeked around the gravestone to see two figures wandering the cemetery with a lantern, obviously looking for something other than a deceased loved one.

“We’re looking for an angel. A gatekeeper. One that looks a bit like her. Hello, Stede Bonnet,” A woman answered the question. “Isn’t that a beauty? Excellent, come on.”

You shivered, whether from the cool stone against your back or fear, you didn’t know and risked glancing over to see the two figures investigating another grave a few feet away from you. They were pulling out heavy tools in an attempt to open whatever was lying inside.

“Shit,” John B whispered as you watched the woman place the amulet you’d found in the shipwreck into the stone, the headstone scraping open as she did. You quickly recognized the man as the one who had caught you and JJ while diving and again in the hospital, so that left this woman to be his boss.

After a moment of silence and more scraping noises, they disappeared under the stone, down into the tomb that lay beneath. Thunder cracked overhead and you jumped, grabbing onto John B’s arm in surprise.

He moved away slowly and your grip tightened to stop him. “John B!”

“Shh, just stay behind me. We’re so not done with that conversation, by the way.”

You shuffled out slowly in fear of someone getting the jump on the two of you. John B paused in front of the headstone that the two people from earlier read; the angel statue had an outstretched hand, which you followed to the tomb they disappeared in.

“The gatekeeper will guide the way,” John B repeated as he followed your gaze. “Holy shit.”

“Holy shit,” You gasped out in shock, realizing they very much had figured out the words on the amulet faster than you’d planned. “Do you think…”

“They’ll be fine,” John B reassured, although you couldn’t tell if he was speaking more to himself or you. “They’re smart. Right?”

You tilted your head in consideration. “Better than us being down there.”

“Yeah, yeah. Way better than us.”

“Pope’s super smart.”

“Right and Cleo’s got her knife.”

“Sarah’s not dumb, she’ll be fine.”

“Kie can have her moments, but-”

Your reasoning was cut off as the headstone shifted and the two individuals from earlier climbed out. John B pushed you behind him further into the shadows of the building as you watched on with curious gazes. Lightning lit up the sky before thunder boomed around you, the storm clearly moving in closer despite your wishes.

You needed to find your friends. And fast.

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ask me anything

#outer banks x reader #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #outer banks #outer banks imagine #jj maybank imagine #goy series #outer banks imagines #john b outer banks #john b routledge x sister!reader #pogues x routledge!reader #routledge!reader #jj outer banks #outer banks jj #obx jj #jj x you #jj maybank outer banks #jj maybank angst #jj maybank x you

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bitterkarella · 1 year ago

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Living and dead horror authors tell scary stories round the campfire in “Submitted for the Approval of the Midnight Pals”, an upcoming audio adaptation of Bitter Karella’s Hugo-nominated comedy-horror microfiction. Full episodes start releasing on October 31, 2023, with an early premier and cast chat streaming on Twitch on Sunday October 29th. For more information, see https://midnightpals.com CAST, in order of appearance: EDGAR ALLAN POE – Rodrigo Borges ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON – Dexter Howard HP LOVECRAFT – Robin Johnson BRAM STOKER – Joel A.S. Butler JONATHAN HARKER – Thaddeus Strange DRACULA – Rodrigo Borges PATRICIA HIGHSMITH – Kate Davoli STEPHEN KING – Jason Robinson MARY SHELLEY – Rebecca D’Souza VICTOR FRANKENSTEIN – Dominic Rye DEAN KOONTZ – Wren Montgomery CLIVE BARKER – Sister Indica SHE WHO MUST NOT BE NAMED – Hailey Piper Trailer edited by Robin Johnson using material from episodes written by Bitter Karella and Robin Johnson. Find the Midnight Pals at midnightpals.com. Subscribe to the podcast at https://midnight-pals.simplecast.com or via Apple Podcasts, Spotify, or your podcast site/app of choice. A transcript of this trailer is available at https://midnight-pals.simplecast.com/episodes/season-1-trailer/transcript https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/submitted-for-the-approval-of-the-midnight-pals/id1691196284?i=1000626696777

#midnight pals #the midnight society #midnight society

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judahfisher · 16 days ago

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general information.

full name judah isaac fisher

nicknames fish / jude / judy ( if you're feeling cheeky )

age 34

date of birth november 22

place of birth staten island, new york

zodiac sagittarius sun

gender cis man

nationality american

religion agnostic

orientation bisexual

physical attributes.

face claim aaron taylor johnson

voice claim aaron taylor johnson

height 5'11

weight 184

build athletic / muscular

exercise habits daily hard manual labor

allergies hay fever / red wine

hair color dark brunet

hairstyle long-ish wild curls

eye color blue

glasses/contacts no

dominant hand right

tattoos this man looks like a sticker book / refs to come

scars several small scars on hands + arms from metalwork / left eyebrow

piercings earlobes / nose ( closed up ) / a secret third thing

jewelry / accessories tree of life necklace / leather cord bracelet

background information.

hometown staten island, new york

current residence the wexley, new york

spoken languages english + bad english

driver’s license yes

occupation piercer / mechanic / scrap artist

familial information.

relationship status single

mother sylvia fisher

father mark fisher

siblings jonah fisher / fraternal twin

other none

children none

pets none

personality.

positive traits charismatic + persuasive + logical + hardworking

negative traits cocksure + obtrusive + manipulative + argumentative

likes urban exploration + a heavy indica + carhartt coveralls + cold metal on skin

dislikes egotism ( unless it's him ) + head highs + sci-fi + performative kindness

fears losing his brother + being alone + rejection + flying insects

moral alignment chaotic neutral

mbti estp

supplies.

mess kit

spare clothes

two and a half packs of newport 100s

slightly less than a quarter of gorilla glue #4 that’s dry asf now but still smokes

small glass bowl

engraved zippo that’s getting dangerously low

crowbar

vintage swiss army knife

travel tool kit

rope

9mm pistol + ammunition

biography.

When Sylvia and Mark Fisher discovered that they were expecting twins, it was an unanticipated but wholly welcome surprise. They were in love, after all, and Sylvia was thrilled at the thought of settling into their modest Staten Island home and putting down roots, building a family, even if the thought of twins did come as a shock to her unsuspecting husband. He quickly acclimated to the idea, but his sense of security was ripped from beneath his feet just as swiftly when a tragic complication during the cesarean left Mark a widow and a single father of two infant boys, Jonah and Judah. Long hours at the fire station and a dedication to his community meant that Mark relied heavily on his sister to help raise his sons, frequently looking after them alongside her own brood of children. They didn’t necessarily have a bad childhood; Judah wasn’t ignorant enough to be blind to the fact that they had more than many, able to boast a father that tried to raise them right, a handful of close family, and a consistent roof over their heads. It never stopped them from staying out of trouble, but it was enough to keep them in check. Although he’d never felt in any way that he had to compete with his twin, it was almost as if being the younger of the two — even if only by seven minutes — had instilled in Judah an innate drive to compensate. Or maybe that was just growing up in a household with so many heads that it became easy to slip through the cracks. Their father did their best to raise them and look out for them, but Judah still hungered for attention from the start. This inherent yearning encouraged his mind and his mouth in equal part as he grew up, carving out a sharp wit and gilding his tongue — he caught the attention and accolades of his teachers when he was young, even if he did grow into something more of a beacon for wasted potential by the time he reached high school. A warning. Whether he had the aptitude for it or not, he was never meant to succeed within the confines of conventional higher education. The world had bigger plans for the Fisher twins, Judah was convinced of this, even if he didn’t know for certain the specifics when he was burning college acceptance letters over the sink and workshopping possible futures involving the pair of them from the counter of their aunt’s kitchen.

( He’d been pressured by counselors to send out applications, but he was never going to go. Not without Jonah. )

That plan, as it turned out, involved renovating an old auto shop that had been in their family for several generations — it belonged to an uncle and was left to their father nearly a decade earlier, sitting abandoned until the boys were given an opportunity to get their hands dirty and turn it into something more. The idea itself came from Jonah, as did most of their better schemes; his older brother had always been the more creative of the two of them, always full of thoughts and theories and plans, and Judah had an eye for spotting the diamonds in the rough. Perhaps the most promising of them all? A combination tattoo-piercing-and-chop shop. The first of its kind, to the brothers’ knowledge. Judah never had the same proclivity for art that his brother did — if the pair of them shared a brain, there was no doubt Jude was the left lobe, all logic and analysis and mechanical parts — but he found his own place among the scrap metal, whether piercing holes in clients or stripping parts from the boosted cars that ended up in their garage. And maybe the shop was never a raving success, but the boys did well enough to get by and look out for each other, and it was a staple location in Staten Island, well-known by the locals.

It was no wonder, then, that when the outbreak occurred, the Fisher boys’ shop swiftly became a safe haven amidst the chaos. And it was no surprise either, was it? How many years had Judah spent entertaining his brother’s long-winded theories about the apocalypse and end-times, nodding along and offering questions and scraps of opinion to hypotheticals he figured would never come to light? He would’ve been biting his tongue in the moment if he’d actually had the time to process and not just act, but Jonah didn’t need to speak his ❛ I told you so ❜ out loud for Judah to hear it. They were surprisingly prepared when the shit hit the fan and it didn’t take much effort to fortify the shop with the materials they had on-hand and the handful of employees that were either lingering around the shop that morning or had found their way there upon hearing the news. With a well to provide fresh water and a series of solar panels spanning the roof in conjunction with a generator, the shop maintained many pre-shitshow luxuries long after the rest of the city had been robbed of them. Society might’ve gone to Hell in a handbasket, but like cockroaches, if you were to ask Judah, the twins thrived in the chaos of the new world order.

Or, at very least, they did for a while. The winter was long and cold and unforgiving, but they holed up and hunkered down and, damn it, they made it through. Judah spent the winter brainstorming and workshopping new ways to improve their camp — securing the perimeter with reinforced fencing, plotting out locations across town to scour for supplies once the thaw finally hit — and had high hopes for the success of spring. What he hadn’t anticipated in all of his thinking and planning was the possibility of a mutiny. These folks were his friends, after all, his community. Christ, he and Jonah had taken them in out of the kindness of their own damn hearts when they could’ve just as easily barricaded everyone on the other side of their wall of half-gutted cars. Maybe they should have. But the Fisher boys were raised better than that, their father made sure of it. There was never a world in which they would’ve kept anybody out. It might not always look like it, but they had a half-decent moral compass. ( Half-decent, Judah thinks, because he’d still had to talk Jonah down from burning the entire building to the ground when they fled. Was that a morality thing, though, or was it more selfishly motivated? There was always a chance they could return. ) There was never a world in which they would’ve kept anybody out. When they were forced to flee their safe space — their home — Judah and Jonah packed everything they could carry on their backs and sought out refuge in the first place they could. What Judah couldn’t have anticipated was safe harbor coming in the form of an actual harbor. Neither one of them knew how to operate a boat, much less drive one, but the twins were nothing if not resourceful, and with their working mechanical knowledge combined, it wasn’t too difficult to find their sea legs. They stayed on the boat for a while, but the sight of a rather impressive pyrotechnic display on the shore captured their attention. Survival instinct kept them from rushing in to investigate immediately, but the twins eventually found their way into the city. Carefully and methodically, they building-hopped their way through Manhattan, keeping an eye out for survivors until they were eventually led to the Wexley. The place is a far cry from the familiar comforts of their Staten Island shop, but Judah is determined to make the most of their time there while they reset, recalibrate, and start to establish a plan to get their home back.

#↳ intro #↳ about #bnyintro

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countingandsnarkingon · 1 month ago

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My sister who’s now living in Oregon(and working at a dispensary) sent me a late birthday present. This cat cookie jar was stuffed with edibles. Everyone, may I Introduce, Zoey Indica-Sativa Hybrid

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th3-0bjectivist · 5 months ago

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1500 FOLLOWERS CELEBRATION post w/ page mascot Springin' Chip!

Heya folks! Springin’ Chip here with a very special celebratory post! This last week, th3-0bjectivist hit 1500 followers! To be fair, about a quarter of his followers are more than likely AI pornbots, but let’s not get hung up on unnecessary details! Being a canine, there’s very little that I can personally offer our audience on Tumblr… save for some drool, dog snot, and poop. So, we’re going to celebrate the only way I know how!

Pictured with me in this photoset is my big sister, Ruby, and for this commemorative post you get to watch me beat her up! I assault my big sister all the time these days, sometimes for no reason, numerous times a day! I think she likes it! If weight class and overall size were a factor, Ruby could just brush my little Spaniel ass aside like a dust bunny. But she plays well with me, and just lets me kinda passively dominate her most days. Works for me! On with the festivities!!!

And now for some page lore! About a decade ago, th3-0bjectivist was comically barely known as v3ritasartiste on Tumblr. It was a page centered around conspiracy theories… and art, and music. And whooooooo boy, did it suck ass through a bamboo straw! The layout was atrocious, the conspiracy-addled dipshit in charge of the page had no idea what he was doing because he was high out of his mind on government-strength sativa and indica strains 24/7, and nothing he posted made a lick of sense! After gaining a whopping 78 followers over two years, butt-hurt and utterly disregarded, v3ritasartiste shut down his page out of pure frustration.

Yeah, take that Ruby! Years later, during the stay-at-home fallout from ***THE UNSPECIFIED VIRUS FROM UNKNOWN ORIGINS***, v3ritasartiste became th3-0bjectivist with three main goals in mind: 1. Jettison the conspiracy bullshit entirely 2. Create a page that actually makes contextual sense 3. Promote art, both own and others. And, by gum, it worked! Well… sorta. There was still a learning curve and he pissed off a few people to start things off (those blocks were well-earned in retrospect) because he was too brash and cocky, but some social refinement and further diversification of materials led us to where we are today. 1500 and counting!

Do ya see how Ruby just lets me rule her!? She could swallow me in a single gulp, damn I love her so much! Getting back to the point of this post, th3-0 wants you to know he greatly appreciates your follows, your likes, reposts, and most importantly your presence here on Tumblr! You may not realize it, but we’re all on a journey together while we’re on this platform. th3-0 has been able to share some of his joys, sorrows and art with you over the years… and those moments aren’t just precious, they are the universal moments that bring us all together as a species. Well… not me personally per se. Just to be clear, I’m a dog! Th3-0, who is a human, just wanted me to express those things to you… yeah, that’s the ticket.

Unlike last year, we’re at full mast with new art. We’ve got plenty of new paintings coming which just need to be more fully realized. We’ve practically cornered the market on original painting-animations on Tumblr, and musical entries and snarky commentary will continue to flow like wine until we’ve determined they are no longer working for us (which will be NEVER). Warts and all, th3-0bjectivist LOVES Tumblr. And just a reminder, if you’re ever interested in purchasing some canvas work, which would really help us, just head on over to our page on DeviantArt and browse the selections in the Featured section. Our wall decorations can make your home or business weirder and more wondrous at the same time! Tumblr restricts gifs to a pathetic 10MB download, which severely confines the visual quality of the gifs. But on DeviantArt, all our artistic gifs are available in high definition and they’re free to download!

Time for a nap with my big sis…. while th3-0bjectivist deletes 386,712,364,871,236,857,623,547,612,376,451,457,282,367,487,264 pornbot messages from his Tumblr inbox! Thanks Tumblr, we love you all!

Until next time fellow literate dogs, ¬ Springin’ Chip for th3-0bjectivist

The 0bjectivist on YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UC2sONH8IwzL_2sZie0ZNSnw/

I’m also on BitChute: https://www.bitchute.com/channel/uvKfJpNkzkIL/

FULL ART GALLERY on Instagram at: https://www.instagram.com/th3_0bjectivist_gallery/ <---- screw that garbage website, we deleted our profile this year!

FULL ART GALLERY on DeviantArt at: https://www.deviantart.com/th3-0bjectivist/gallery

#page update #Springin' Chip #thank you followers!#this page #celebratory post #Ruby #page mascot #dogs on tumblr #dogblr #springer spaniel #new painting next week #this blog will continue as is until there is a needed change #my dogs

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cutiepansstuff · 7 months ago

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¿Dónde está mi bebé?

Un momento paternal entre Missa y Tallulah.

Wilbur solo ha sido mencionado por fines de la trama, no estoy a favor de sus acciones.

Missa se encontraba junto con Tallulah y Chayanne en un campo de flores, de lejos podía verse al híbrido cuervo viéndolos con una sonrisa, hace tiempo no tenían un día como ese, apacible, en familia, desde la adopción legal de la niña con cabellos oscuros y los sucesos con cierto demonio. Ahora están bien, son una familia, completa y feliz, nada puede cambiar eso, ninguno de los dos adultos dejará que alguien arruine su rincón de felicidad.

– Papá Missa, te tengo un regalo.- llega emocionada la niña con sus manitas detrás de la espalda, llamando la atención del híbrido esqueleto.

– ¿En serio? ¿Y qué es?- pregunta volteando a ver a la niña con una sonrisa.

– Tienes que cerrar los ojos.- indica moviendo su pequeño cuerpo sobre sus talones emocionada.

– Está bien, cierro los ojos, y no haré trampa.- acepta con una pequeña sonrisa cerrando sus ojos al mismo tiempo que los cubre con sus manos.

La híbrida se acerca a su padre asegurándose que el mexicano no se encuentre viendo, para poder levantar sus manos y colocarle una corona de flores amarillas y moradas encima de su cabeza, la acción provocó que el mayor abriera sus ojos viéndose en el espejo que Sunny le regaló a Tallulah por su cumpleaños.

– Oh por dios Llulah, es hermoso.- halaga el trabajo de la dragón viendo la hermosa corona en su cabeza.

– ¿Te gustó papá?- pregunta moviendo su cosa emocionada.

– Me encanta, mi linda princesa guerrera.- sostiene el pequeño cuerpo de la niña abrazándolo con fuerza, llenando sus mejillas de cortos besos, ocasionando risas divertidas de su hija.

– Papá basta, me haces cosquillas.- la niña intenta alejarse de los cariños de su padre entre risas.

– Mi linda Tallulah, no sabes lo feliz que tú y tu hermano me han hecho.- confiesa sentando a la niña en si regazo, acariciando sus rizados cabellos oscuros.

– Te amo mucho papá.- dice la menor acomodándose en el pecho del adulto, ambos cierran sus ojos escuchando los pasos de los rubios acercándose hacia ellos.

– Missa, wake up Missa.- la voz del rubio se hace escuchar en su mente, cuando el pelinegro abre sus ojos se encuentra en su casa, acostado en su cama.

– ¿Philza? ¿Cuándo regresamos a casa?- pregunta mientras se sienta en la cama, desorientado al estar en el campo de flores hace pocos segundos atrás.

– What do you mean? We always be in home.- contesta confundido el cuervo sentándose frente suyo en la cama, junto con Chayanne

– Pero estábamos en el campo de flores, con Tallulah, ¿Dónde está Tallulah?- pregunta volteando a los lados notando la ausencia de la niña dragón.

– Tallulah?

– Papá, ¿Quién es Tallulah?- las palabras del niño confundieron aún más al esqueleto.

– ¿De qué hablas Chayanne? ¿Acaso te peleaste con ella de nuevo?- intenta comprender la situación y las miradas preocupadas y confundidas de su familia.

– Papá, no conozco a ninguna niña llamada Tallulah.- explica el niño ladeando su cabeza confundido hacia su otro padre, quien le acaricia el cabello tratando de tranquilizarlo.

– Chay esto no es divertido, estoy hablando de tu hermana, Tallulah.- Missa comienza a alterarse ante la situación, no entiende que está pasando, no entiende por qué pareciera que no conocen a la niña que adoptaron.

– Missa, Chayanne doesn't have a sister named Tallulah.- toma la mano de su esposo tratando de tranquilizarlo al notar como comienza a hiperventilar.

– ¡Si la tiene! Phil tu adoptaste a Tallulah, ella era hija de Wilbur y decidimos adoptarla después que la abandonará, hemos sido sus padres casi un año, ¡¿Dónde está mi hija Philza?!- el mexicano toma desesperado los hombros del rubio comenzando a soltar lágrimas.

– Missa, Wilbur had a child with Quackity named Tilín, not Tallulah, and she died early, maybe you dream with her.- toma las manos del menor con una sonrisa comprensiva mientras limpia las cálidas lágrimas de sus mejillas.

– ¿La soñé? Pero, fue casi un año, yo, yo en serio siento que ella existió... Mi linda princesa guerrera.- no puede evitar saltar a los brazos de Philza en busca de consuelo, mientras Chayanne se acerca a su lado, podían sentir la tristeza y desesperación del mexicano, ahora lo único que deben hacer es apoyarlo y darle el amor que merece.

#qsmp fanfiction #qsmp #qsmp missa #qsmp philza #qsmp chayanne #qsmp tallulah #qsmp death family #angst #fluff

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voidpaws · 6 months ago

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beautiful twin sisters named sativa and indica

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sevens-evan · 3 months ago

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In response to your weed post it depends on which products and stuff you take! I reacted very similar when I would smoke weed and I hated the smell and taste. My sister who works at a dispensary got me edibles to help with my anxiety and it helps a lot. I think it definitely takes time to find what works for you and your body and knowing what does what. I take indica to help me sleep and Sativa when I want to stay up late gaming. Some brands are also stronger than others (encore is good but it’s strong).

weed people love to say stuff life this

#real answer if smoking makes me weird it at least ends like 30 minutes after.#i do not want to be trapped in rage mode for six hours off an edible #not worth the risk of experimentation #anon #answered

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actrixquadras · 3 months ago

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So Far Away AU Part5

Chapter 4: Father's Love

If one was passing by the Arc Acres that morning, they would point out how loud the house was before they went on their merry way. Well, the house was always noisy in the mornings, but today… it was noisier than usual. Around the dining table sat Isabelle and her children, all of them. Today no one was missing from her family. Sure her husband was out at the stable, but he would join them sooner or later, for the breakfast was one activity the entire family came together.

“You are getting married!?” Jaune asks in shock as he sits down at the seat that he always sat on during childhood. His sisters had helped him bring in the remaining stuff from his jeep before they had decided to settle down to have their morning grub.

Azure looks at her only brother and replies, “Yes. He is a traveling huntsman but he is planning to settle down in town as soon as we tie our knots”.

“Not only that, Jaune…. Jade is crushing on the boy who has joined her at her garage and even Scarlet likes this man who comes to drop his dogs”, Isabelle states with a grin.

The knight looks at his sisters with a gentle smile. says, “I’m happy for you guys”.

“Jaune, Azure is the only one who is getting married. Jade and I are just talking”, Scarlet replies with a blush.

“Well talking is the first step anyone could take”, says Indila.

“Leave that… Bro… do you have someone like that!?” Indica asks excitedly and suddenly, the smile on the man’s face drops, and all the color drains from his face. The entire table goes quiet, the sisters and the mother realizing how heavy the topic is. But before they can say anything, the door connected to the kitchen opens and Julius walks in.

“Good morning Dad!” Vi takes this opportunity to greet and everyone including Jaune greets the patriarch a good morning which he replies in kind.

The father of the house sat down at the table, opposite the knight. He looks at the knight and asks, ”How is that woman doing?”

This causes Jaune to perk up and reply, “She is doing well for now”.

“Hmmm”, the man grumbles stoically and Jaune can’t help but look at his plate. Suddenly, his father asks, “So is that woman your lover or something?”

In denial, the knight shakes his head and replies, “No… Weiss is just a good friend of mine”.

The father nods at his reply and Saphron takes this as her chance to speak up and say, “I never expected Weiss to end up like that. What about Ruby and others? Where are they?” and Jaune’s face falls.

“You know her Saphron?” Scarlet asks from her seat.

“She dropped by our place when Jaune came to visit us at Ansel”, Terra replies in her wife’s stead and she continues to say, “She was… a bit stiff but you could see how much she adored her team. A bit awkward and how she carried herself made me feel that she was a high-class girl. She adored Adrian a lot though”.

“If she adored Adrian then she is a good person in my books”, Vi says as she munches her breakfast.

“Ren and Nora went back to Kuroyuri to rebuild it”, Jaune starts, and the entire family pays attention to what he has to say. He continues, “Ruby and others… they didn’t make it. Weiss is the only one who has survived”.

“Jaune…” his mother starts but gets cut off.

The knight leans forward on the table and as he crosses his fingers, says, “Never in my life, I had thought that my life would take such a turn. I was enjoying my life at Beacon. I was training my body and skills to keep up with my friends, to achieve the dream I always dreamt of, and the next moment I was thrust into this war. My partner died and I was powerless to do anything. I have taken the lives of someone who was deserving… and someone who didn’t. I have fought alongside some people who didn’t even understand why they were fighting and who they were fighting. I tried to save everyone. Anyone who was within my reach and yet I have failed. I was lost. I have returned. I have grown old, I have grown young, and yet I don’t feel that I belong in this body. I lost Ruby, the one person I wanted to spend the rest of my life with. I have lost my friends. I don’t know why I’m still here... I don’t know…”

Suddenly, he felt a hand on his shoulder and he looked up to see that his mother, who had got up from her place at the dining table, was the one who stopped him from droning. The knight couldn’t help but berate himself. He made his family uncomfortable talking about the war. He was the worst son and brother.

“It’s fine, Jaune… What matters to us the most is that you came back”, Isabelle says and a voice of approval choruses all over the table.

“Jaune… Mum is right. As long as you are fine and healthy, that would be enough for us”, Scarlet says gently. A small smile grows on Jaune as he nods at his eldest sister. The words of encouragement and support that followed from the rest made the knight tear up a bit.

“So… what do you plan to do now?” Julius asks while folding his hands on the table. His expression was unchanged, but if one were to look at his eyes, one would have noticed how they softened up seeing his son tear up.

“I was planning to find a place to stay”, Jaune replies.

“I don’t mind you staying here”, Isabelle perks up and his sisters nod.

The knight shakes his head and replies, “I know that, Mum. But that is something I can’t do. Weiss’s sister is moving to Ansel in a year and I think it would be convenient for her if she already has a place to stay. Also, she had given me some funds to buy a place and I believe it would be rude if I didn’t use it”.

“But…” Isabelle tries to protest but Julius shakes his head at her, stopping her.

The patriarch looks at his son and says, “Do whatever seems fit. If you want, I can introduce you to a broker”.

“That would be nice”, was the reply Jaune gave. He also adds, “I will also find a job. As much as I want to avoid Huntsmen jobs, that is a job I have a large expertise in. So I might take those jobs occasionally. Also, my semblance would be helpful. I will find something to work on”.

Julius nods and says, “It’s a good thing that you know what you have to do. You also have carpentry skills that I have taught you. You can stay here as long as you want”.

“I won’t take much time”, Jaune assures and after taking a sip from his coffee, he says, “There is something I wanted to say”. Before anyone could let out a peep, the knight walked out and came back within a minute, but this time with Crocea Mors in his hands. He then proceeds to unsheathe the weapon from its home and everyone gasps at the broken blade and dried out blood at the broken part. The knight places the shield-sheath on the floor gently and as he cradles the sword in his hand, he says, “I had stolen her because of how badly I wanted to be a hero, but I have done nothing but disgrace her. Crocea served me well and as much as I wanted to fix her, I couldn’t. The least I could do is bring her back home”.

Julius gets up from his seat and walks over to his son. Without a word, he takes the sword by its pommel and holds it up in the air, letting the sunlight glisten the blade. Despite being broken, the edges were sharp. There were modifications on the pommel and the sheath, but other than that the sword was intact. The blood on the broken part would have been scrubbed off, but it was still there for some reason. The father of the house gave a few practice swings and said, “I see some changes”.

Jaune replies, “Yeah… I have incorporated the metal of my partner’s weapons and her tiara. The shield has been through some modifications since I became an official huntsman at Atlas. Other than that, I left the blade intact. Well… it was supposed to be intact”.

“Tell me Jaune…” Julius starts, looking at his son, and asks, “How do you plan to take on huntsman jobs when you don’t have a weapon?”

“Maybe buy a new weapon or commission one to be made”, the knight replies.

The father doesn’t say anything at first, but then he hands back the sword to his son. Jaune was shocked by the gesture and before he could say anything, Julius said, “It’s better if you keep using Crocea Mors. You're more used to this weapon than any other out there”.

“But…”

“Jaune… It’s better to use the tools you are familiar with rather than the new ones. It’s efficient. The same applies to the weapons”, says Julius. He then looks at the sword and says, “And considering your concerns with it being broken, I can see that the edges are sharper than ever. It’s made of an old alloy. It’s a miracle that it lasted this long. As much as I hate to say it, it can’t compete with the newer alloys in the market. I believe you would put it to good use”.

The knight wordlessly looks at the sword. As much as he wanted to deny it, his father was right. He has used Crocea for 26 years now. Now, it felt like another limb. Not having the sword on him made him feel helpless, a feeling Jaune didn’t want to experience.

Julius walked to his chair and said, “Let’s finish our breakfast. I believe your mother and sisters have much to discuss”. Jaune nods as he carefully sheaths his sword back in its rightful place. He keeps looking at it, unsure of what to say at his father’s indifference towards the blade. Didn’t his father care about him tainting the family heirloom with blood? Didn’t he care about Crocea’s condition?

“Jaune… Finish your breakfast. We can continue later”, Isabelle says to which the knight nods. He couldn’t help but sigh and internally hope that one day, he could understand his father a little more. That day would come, but it seems like that day wasn't today.

Isabelle sighed as she locked the front door. She was tired. That tends to happen when working all day around the house and the farm. The night had come a long time ago and right now it was half past eleven. Jaune had come in after his day out house searching, and right now he was in his room, tending to the girl he had brought with him. He has been in and out of the house a lot and the mother of the family couldn’t help but grimace on how restless he seemed.

The conversation they had after breakfast was not much to build up from. Jaune mainly spoke about his friends, his time at Beacon, and his journey to Atlas. He spoke about Weiss, he spoke of this girl named Ruby whom the mother recognized as the girl from the message but not once he spoke about the fall of Atlas and the war that followed. He did slip up occasionally, but the things Jaune spoke during the breakfast were the most they got from him.

Isabelle cursed herself for stopping her son from speaking but what could she do at that time? Hearing about the turmoil her son went through was too much for her. She couldn’t imagine the horrors her son went through. The boy who always had a smile on his face was no more. The man who seemed far older than he looked stood before Isabelle. She didn’t know why, she couldn’t place it quite right, but something was different.

As she enters the living room, her eyes fall upon her husband, sitting on the rocking chair, staring into the fire that was burning at the fireplace. Winters were long gone, but the nights tend to get chilly around here due to the elevation. Having the fireplace running made the house feel toasty. But right now, the fire was the least of her concerns, as her gaze locked on Julius.

“How is Bessie doing?” asks the mother of the house.

“Other than contractions, she is doing well”, she hears the reply from her husband.

“I hope the calf is born healthy. It broke my heart to give the last one to the butcher”, Isabelle says, remembering the stillborn calf their other cow gave birth to.

Julius lets out a grunt and says, “Nothing we can do about that, Belle. We have done all we could have done. Now all we can do is pray”.

“I hope everything goes well. I can use some positivity”, says the matriarch as she walks right up to him, and as she takes the empty chair that accompanied him, takes a good look at his face.

For a minute, the only sounds that were being heard in the room were the crackling of the firewood and an occasional howl of the dogs outside. But suddenly, out of nowhere, Julius asks, “Did Jaune return? I saw his jeep outside”.

“Yeah, he is with the girl. Never leaves her side”, was the reply Isabelle gave.

The father gives a nod and he offhandedly says, “To be honest, I never expected him to bring a girl home”, and Isabelle couldn’t help but sigh. Julius was hard to read, but years of living and having a family with him made Isabelle read him like an open book. He never wore his emotions on his sleeve, but she knew well what he was thinking or feeling.

She sighs as she says, “You could at least show that you are happy about him being back”.

Julius, without looking at his wife, replies, “How am I supposed to be happy when our son looks like that?”

Isabelle couldn’t argue with that. Though husband and wife, both of them tend to look at things differently. Is it because she lived a sheltered life before marriage or is it because of her husband’s prior occupation as a huntsman? She never knew. Isabelle and the girls were happy that Jaune was back and he had to suffer no more, but Julius was worried about how war affected their son.

Julius was happy. There was no doubt about that. He and his son parted in anger and seeing him look well, brought peace to him. But years of experience alerted him about the chaos that was going through in his son’s mind. The way Jaune carefully chewed the first bite of the breakfast as if it was poisoned. The way he was always on guard. Those were the habits of a huntsman who had seen a lot and that didn’t bring the father of the house any joy.

“It was as if I was looking at a mirror. Those eyes, those expressions… Jaune isn’t doing well, Belle. The war has changed him”, Julius replies in a somber voice.

“This is why he needs us, Juli. If we aren’t there for our kids, then who is gonna be for them? Our job as parents never stops. The day it stops is the day we die”, Isabelle says as she leans closer to her husband.

“That’s the thing, Belle. I just don’t know what I am supposed to say. The innocence he had is long gone. Now, he has brought some girl home. I don’t give a shit about the damn sword, but this… this is not what I expected. This is why I didn’t want him to be a Huntsman. He was not ready for that world”, Julius exclaims.

“Julius… Your denying Jaune his desires contributed to him being attracted to the idea of being a Huntsman. You pushed him away last time. Don’t push him away now”, says Isabelle.

“Then tell me what I am supposed to do, Belle? Whatever it is that I have to do, I can’t do it alone”, Julius exasperates as he visibly deflates in his chair.

The mother of the house reaches her hand out to her hand and as she gently nudges it with his hand, she says, “There are only a few things we can do. As much as I hate to say, Jaune has to help himself first before we can help him. Until he accepts that, all we can do is support him and be there for him”.

The father of the house doesn’t say a word but he lets the mother know that he understands what she has just said by taking her hand gently in his rough palm, He gives it a slight squeeze which is returned in kind. He stares back into the fire, trying to think of ways he could help his son and ultimately reconnect with him.

Jaune couldn’t help but sigh as he discarded another catalog in the trash. His father was kind enough to help him get in contact with the broker but the options the broker had to offer were not something he was looking for. Few options were too pricey for his liking. Winter might have given him the funds to buy a house, but spending it without consideration didn’t sit well with him. There were also some cheaper options, but those houses needed repairs, and when Jaune said repairs, he meant a lot of it. It was better to buy a new house if he had to spend a house’s worth of money to make a house a livable space.

It’s not that there were only bad spaces, but Jaune didn't like it for some reason or other. Maybe it was in the center of town. Maybe it was at the edge of the cliff. The knight just wants to give Weiss a comfortable space. A space where she can take her time to recover. Away from noise, away from hustle and bustle. A place where she doesn’t have to worry about anything.

The knight looks at the woman in question. Ever sleeping, never moving. Taking care of her was never a hassle for him and he was easing into the routine very well. He reaches out to rub her forehead gently and he can’t help but grimace. The faster he finds a house, the quicker he will be able to focus on finding a job. His mother and Vi had offered to stand in when he was not around, but he couldn’t depend on them. He was already overstaying his welcome. He needs to get moving as quickly as possible.

He was broken out of his thoughts when suddenly he heard a knock on the door. He looks up in surprise as he hears his father’s voice, asking, “Jaune, may I come in?”

“Sure”, the knight replies suddenly, unsure what to make of his father’s sudden appearance. It’s only been a day since they had that conversation during breakfast and now his father appearing at his door was jarring. The Arc patriarch opens the door hesitantly, looking everywhere but at Jaune.

“How are you doing, Jaune?” Julius asks suddenly.

The sudden question catches the knight off guard, but he replies, “Fit as a horse”.

The father nods and a pregnant silence falls in the room, with the only noise being Weiss’s oxygen compressor humming. Julius was not much into talking. Jaune knew that well, but seeing him go out of his way to ask him how he was holding up pulled the knight’s heartstrings.

“I want you to join me for a while. I want to show you something. I have asked your mother to be here while you are out with me”, Julius says, with a matter-of-fact tone, making it very clear to his son that there is no room for denial. The knight nods and as the father walks out of his room, he takes one last good look at the sleeping beauty. With a deep breath, he walked out of the room, preparing for what his father had to show.

The knight follows his father, who has now decided to walk out of the back door and into the woods behind their house. Jaune was familiar with these trees. He and his sisters played around those trees. There was a time when he and Jade got lost, but thinking back now, they were just a few feet away from the house. But why was his father leading him through the woods?

“I’m planning to convert this place into an orchard," Julius says suddenly, which causes Jaune to jump slightly. Without noticing, the father of the Arc continues to say, “Maybe there be some oranges and apples. Pomegranates would be lovely as well. It would be nice if we could use this place as well”.

Jaune nods in agreement. As much as he had memories in these woods, it was better to put this place to use. These woods were part of Arc Acres, and the knight always wondered why his father kept this place intact. So he adds, “You could also get into beekeeping. I heard that honey is in high demand. Maybe add some flowers too”.

“Hmm,... I never thought about that”, Julius replies with an understanding hum.

They kept on talking about prospective expansions when suddenly they came across a log cabin. It was not run down but it had seen some better days. Jaune instantly recognized the place. It was the house Scarlet and Saphron were born in. Jaune and the rest of the siblings were born in the current house. He has been to this place with Scarlet where she would force him to play house. Is that the reason why his father never bothered to touch this place? Because he cherished those memories as much as he did?

Julius speaks up before he can say anything, saying, “This place is nice. The sun shines well during winters and in summers it won’t come in. The place is breezy. You might have to replace a few boards and have power and water running. Maybe a good varnish might help as well”. He then looks at Jaune and asks, “What do you think of it?”

Jaune replies, “Sounds like a plan. Are you planning to rent it out?”

“I am giving it to you”, was the reply Julius gave, and the knight was flabbergasted.

He sputtered. He stammered, but he couldn’t get a word out of his mouth. But Julius beat it to him and says, “I’m also employing you. It will be your job to convert these woods into an orchard. I will be paying you for every hour you put into this place. You could continue to be a huntsman, but as far as I know, those jobs are on-call. You might be jobless for a long time. At least you could work on this. Bring that lady here too. I bet this would be helpful for her”.

“Dad… I can’t take this. This is too much”, Jaune protests.

“You will take it and that is final '', Julius indignantly replies.

“But Dad… Weiss’s sister is planning to move here...”

“Then she can move in here too. I don’t mind if she brings along her lover or children”.

“But… Why Dad?” Jaune asks. He continues to say, “I was never a good son. I ran away from my responsibilities. I never wanted to be a part of this farm. Then why are you trying to help me?”

“What’s wrong with wanting to help my son?” Julius asks, matter-of-fact and words die in the knight’s throat. He continues to say, “I and your mother didn’t give birth to you because we wanted something from you. We wanted to do something for you”.

Jaune doesn’t say anything and Julius suddenly feels awkward to continue. The stoic man takes in a deep breath and he hesitantly reaches to his son’s shoulder. While giving it a firm rub, he says, “It doesn’t matter what you did in the past, Jaune. What matters to me the most is that you came back. You can come to me anytime if there is anything to discuss. Maybe this old man might have a few words of wisdom for you”.

He then pats Jaune on the back and says, “Check the place out. You are still spending your money to get this place up and running”, and he starts walking down the path they came through.

For a minute, the knight doesn’t say a word, but suddenly he calls out, “Dad!”

Julius turns around and asks, “Yes?”

“Thank you!” Jaune says with a genuine smile on his face.

And for the first time in forever, Julius smiles and says, “Don’t mention it, son”, and he continues to walk down the path.

Jaune looks back at the cabin, making some plans in his head, but in his heart, he is elated. He and his father had taken the first step. The first step is to mend their relationship. It was a small step, but the first step nonetheless. Jaune couldn’t help but smile for the day he and his father would be a family, was not so far away.

#jaune arc #weiss schnee #rwby whiteknight #rwby

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